JR PI
by Jazzmaster
Summary: HHH has disappeared, and JR is trying to find him. Everyone else is desperately trying to stop him.
1. Good Golly Gosh, HHH is missing!

A/N: This is the first chapter of a story I began writing a long time ago. I didn't think it was very good, so I never posted the original version. But I read over it, made a few changes here and there, added bits to it and now here is the first part of JR - PI!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or it's characters.  
  
***  
  
I was sitting in my office wondering if I would get any business when 'business' walked through my door. To be more precise, trouble walked through my door. To be even more precise, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley walked through my door. My name was Jim Ross, otherwise known as JR. I was a Private Investigator, and I knew the dame in front of me had a case.  
  
"I have a case for you, JR," she said. You didn't need to be a rocket scientist to be a PI.  
  
"I'm listening sweetheart," I said. When the billion-dollar princess spoke, you listened. Her father was none other than Vince McMahon, and he ran this town.  
  
"It's my husband HHH - he's gone missing." HHH- The Cerebral Assassin. I'd had some run-ins with him in the past. A real shady character was HHH.  
  
"Tell someone who cares sweetheart," I said. She screwed up her face before bursting into tears. I handed the dame a tissue so she could wipe her eyes.  
  
"Please, he's all I have in the world. You must find him for me. I'll pay anything," she informed me.  
  
"I just want you to pay me." I informed her.  
  
I considered things for a moment. I didn't doubt that HHH had his fair share of enemies. The list of suspects would be endless, no question. It would be nice to get paid, but I had to wonder if I really wanted to find HHH. Also, did HHH really want to be found? Frankly if I were married to this dame I'd have vanished too.  
  
"No can do sweetheart. You want him found, call the cops. I don't work for McMahon scum." The dame had a quizzical look on her face. "I mean, apart from on Monday nights and PPV nights, of course."  
  
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to tell my daddy how un-cooperative you've been Mr Ross."  
  
I didn't like the dame's tone of voice. But I didn't like getting killed by power-crazed loons like Vince McMahon either. I knew if I upset his little girl I'd wake up with a knife in my back. If I had the chance to wake up at all, that is. Worse, I could lose my job. Worse, I could get placed as a trainer on 'Tough Enough - The Search for a Commentator'. I had no choice but to take the case.  
  
"I have no choice but to take the case," I told her.  
  
She smiled sweetly at me. I didn't trust this dame one bit. Her personality had changed several times, and that was just since she had walked into my office.  
  
"Excellent. I'll make sure you get paid well if you find my husband."  
  
"Do you have any idea what's happened to him?" I asked. The dame screwed up her face again.  
  
"What are you suggesting? Are you saying I'm involved in HHH's disappearance? ARE YOU!?" screeched the dame in the most annoyingly whiny voice I had ever heard. I shrugged my shoulders.  
  
"Are you involved?"  
  
"Of course not! You think I would be here talking to you if I was involved?"  
  
"When was the last time you saw your husband?"  
  
"Two days ago at dinner."  
  
"What did you have for dinner?"  
  
"Aren't we getting a little side-tracked here, Mr Ross?"  
  
Perhaps the dame was right.  
  
"Okay, just leave it with me."  
  
Stephanie turned her back on me and went to leave my office.  
  
"I think you misunderstand - I meant the money. Leave it with me."  
  
She turned around with an angry look on her face, then snorted and laid a pile of cash on my desk before storming out. I took my cowboy hat off of my head so I could scratch it. I looked in my desk drawer, perhaps hoping HHH was there and that I'd be able to find him without leaving my office. No such luck. All that was there was my trusty revolver. I figured it might come in handy and I slipped it into my coat pocket.  
  
  
  
I pulled out my trusty notepad, I mean casebook, and scribbled down a few notes.  
  
Page 1 - HHH missing  
  
Page 2 - HHH possibly abducted  
  
Page 3 - Suspects - EVERYONE (EXCEPT ME)  
  
Looking through my no- casebook, I was rather frustrated that I couldn't piece together everything from the information I had. It looked as though I was actually going to have to do some work. I decided to score out 'possibly' and assume that HHH had been abducted. HHH was a man with an ego even bigger than his nose and he wasn't just going to stop being a part of the WWE of his own free will. That's free will, not 'Free Willy' which I watched on TV last night.  
  
  
  
Now came the toughest part of any case - getting my fat ass out of my chair. It wasn't easy, but I looked at the pile of money laid out on my table and it made it easier. I picked up the money and placed it safely in my safe, where it would be safe. I put my cowboy hat back on and left my office. Business was about to pick up.  
  
  
  
  
  
I decided against trying to interview the entire roster. It would arouse too much suspicion. It didn't do to pry into the affairs of WWE superstars. They all led bizarre personal lives that I did not want to get involved with. So, in order to narrow down the list of suspects, I decided to pay a visit to an old friend.  
  
"It's pink, it's droopy, it's glistening, it's vile! It's one of Jerry's world famous hotdogs!" said the man at the hotdog stand with the crown on his head.  
  
I said hello to the King.  
  
"Hello King," I said.  
  
"Hey, JR, go on - try a tasty pink one!" said Lawler.  
  
"I'm really not interested in your hotdog's King." I explained. He looked a little deflated by this. He went to say something, but I cut him off. "I don't want your book either."  
  
"What the hell do you want then?"  
  
"Information. You wouldn't happen to know anything about HHH's disappearance, would you?" I asked casually.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, JR." He went back to his hotdogs and pretended I wasn't there. I didn't like the way he was acting. King and I had been friends for years. He was the only friend I had, and the only man I could turn to for help on the case.  
  
"I need your help, Jerry." I was a proud man, but I could swallow. My pride that is. I noticed he seemed ready to relent, but before he could say anything, a nearby payphone started ringing. Jerry looked nervous.  
  
"We're being watched, JR." His eyes moved about erratically, as if there were puppies everywhere. But it was just us and the payphone.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous King. Nobody watches RAW anymore," I reassured him.  
  
"Answer the phone," he hissed at me before ducking behind his stall. I didn't know what this was about, but I walked over and picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello JR."  
  
"Who is this? And why are you talking in that ridiculous voice?"  
  
"I'm using a voice-box in order to disguise my voice."  
  
"Are you the kidnapper?"  
  
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha.. You'll never know the answer to that. Get off of this case NOW. It's putting your life in grave danger. And it'll put your friends life in danger too. HHH is not meant to be found, got it? Don't bother trying to find me. You will never be able to."  
  
I looked across the street and saw Test talking on a mobile phone. He swore as he saw me and dropped the phone. He ran away, and one too many BBQ's prevented me from following him. The question was, was Test the kidnapper? HHH had stolen his fiancee, Stephanie, from him several years ago. Could this be Test trying to get revenge?  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, JR. Test isn't important enough to be the kidnapper. Or smart enough. Or strong enough. Or Tough Enough 4 - coming soon to MTV! Here's a sneak preview!" said King.  
  
  
  
The scene opens in a gym where Al Snow is yelling at a bunch of overweight kids.  
  
"Are you TOUGH ENOUGH!? Sing the song I taught you, the one that all wannabee wrestlers sing!"  
  
The kids begin singing.  
  
"I wanna be the very best, like no-one ever was. To catch them is my real test... Isn't this the old Pokemon song?"  
  
"You are all Pokemon and I'm training you!" said Al.  
  
TOUGH ENOUGH 4 - COMING SOON!  
  
  
  
I didn't know what had just happened, and I thought it best not to ask.  
  
"King, I know you know more than you're telling. So out with it. " I said.  
  
"You can't possibly know that I know that," he replied.  
  
"I do now - you just admitted it." I was impressed by my own intelligenceness.  
  
"Damn!" said King. "Alright, alright already. I know someone who claims they saw HHH being abducted. "  
  
  
  
Stacy Kiebler. Like most dames, she had legs, but hers were somewhat longer than was natural.  
  
" Hello Ms Kiebler," I said.  
  
"Ow, Jerry, why'd you have to bring HIM here?" I heard her say to King.  
  
"Just tell him what you saw two nights ago and I'll get rid of him."  
  
I saw a look of horror on Stacy's face. For a second I thought King might have touched her, but I started to think differently around the time I fell to the ground after receiving a blow to the back of the head. I struggled to stay conscious and I heard a voice.  
  
"She didn't see anything."  
  
Then I blacked out. 


	2. The Easy Way or the Hard Way

A/N: The events here take place before JR stopped doing the Ross Report. Also, I apologize for the slowness of updating this fic, I'll try and be a bit quicker with the rest of it.  
  
"Damn fine coffee you have here at The World, and d*mn good cherry pie," I heard myself saying.  
  
"The Rock prefers a different kind of pie," said The Rock, who for some unknown reason had a log tied to his head.  
  
I saw Ivory walk into the room. Much to my surprise, she had the head of a horse, and I mean that quite literally in this case.  
  
"Neigh," said Ivory.  
  
I looked down and saw that I was apparently being eaten by a piece of lettuce.  
  
  
  
"THE RATTLESNAKE!" I yelled as I came back into the land of the conscious. For some reason I always yelled that whenever I woke up. For some reason I yelled it most of the time in fact. As I began to recall what had happened though, the thought of Austin vanished and I realised I was tied to a chair, and the only yelling I was going to be doing was of the "HELP ME" variety. I yelled and yelled, but apparently no-one could hear me. Either that or they were ignoring me. That happened sometimes. In fact, it happened rather a lot. Just the other day I had seen Chris Jericho out in the parking lot and said "Hi Chris" to him, and he had looked around as if he hadn't seen me, and said nothing as if he hadn't heard me but I know he had. Just because I call him a jackass and an egomaniac and insult him every chance I get. I mean, that's no reason to be rude.  
  
I knew that somehow I was going to have to get myself out of this. I still had this weeks Ross Report to write, in my usual ridiculously enthusiastic way, where I act as if the WWE actually has a promising future and that I actually care. I also act as if the time I brought in the fake Diesel and Razor Ramon never happened, and that I'm really a nice guy, which I'm not. One day I will bring in a fake Austin and Hogan. Then the WWE will be sorry.  
  
I blinked rapidly as I tried to clear my head. The evil thoughts that had haunted me in my short time as a heel in the past were returning, and I had to get rid of them. After all, I was Good Ol' JR now, and I wanted to remain that way forever. I struggled with the ropes but to no avail. I threw a temper tantrum then, and I accidentally caused the chair to tilt over. From my new vantage point I could see a single piece of broken glass lying on the ground. I began awkwardly crawling (awkwardly since I didn't have the use of my hands and had a chair stuck to me) on my side and I managed to manoeuvre so that I could cut the ropes and free myself. I know that may have sounded improbable, but if Big Show can be champion. then I think you can accept that. Besides, anything can happen in the WWE. Apart from Billy Gunn becoming World champion. That will never happen.  
  
Now I was free (at least from the chair, I still wasn't free of my WWE contact or anything) I realised it was time to get back on the case. Someone had attacked me, in fact I was lucky to still be alive. I didn't know if Stacy and King had been quite that lucky.  
  
I headed back to Stacy Kiebler's place. I had to break the door down, which no doubt caused some unwanted attention, but I knew Stacy's neighbours were all male and all perverts, so I knew they would not get involved less I expose them.  
  
Inside, there was no sign of Stacy, King, or the SOB who had attacked me from behind like a gutted fish, or perhaps a gutless coward would be more accurate. I began looking for clues in Stacy's underwear drawer, before remembering that I wasn't King and I wouldn't do something like that.  
  
I looked where I had met Stacy, and I found a note lying on the table. I mean, I hadn't met Stacy on the table, I mean I was in the general vicinity of where I had met her, and from there I could see the note laying on the table. I was glad the attacker had left a note, it was so much easier than doing real detective work. The note read:  
  
Dear JR,  
  
I see you managed to escape. Well, I can't actually see it, but if you're reading this note then it is safe to assume that you escaped. If you are not JR, please do not read this, it is private. If you have not escaped then you cannot possibly be reading this. Anyway, if you want to see the girl or the old perv again, drop the HHH case.  
  
I didn't like what the note had to say, but at least now I knew Stacy and King were alive. Trouble was, now I not only had to find HHH, but King and Stacy as well. So a few hours into the case and instead of reducing the amount of work left to do I had managed to triple it. I wouldn't get paid extra for tracking them down (no-one else would really miss either of them) but I needed to know what Stacy had seen when HHH had been abducted and King was still my friend.  
  
There was only one real option left to me, unless I actually wanted to do a lot of work, which needless to say I didn't. I headed off to the Smackdown arena to find The Undertaker and ask if I could borrow his invisible crystal ball.  
  
  
  
When I walked into the arena, I began sweating nervously. I hadn't been in a Smackdown building since the time I got caught by backstage cameras during a Brock Lesnar segment. Boy, I had gotten into trouble for that. Bischoff had called me a turncoat, and Michael Cole had ran about the building nervously yelling something about me being after his job, and saying he remembered the time I kicked him in the groin. I closed my eyes as I remembered that incident, from my kind of heel who gets cheers period when I brought in Dr Death and built my own announce table. No, no that wasn't me anymore. I put my hand against the wall to steady myself when I saw Jamie Noble walk past me with a bottle of beer in his hand.  
  
"Hey, have you seen The Undertaker?" I asked him.  
  
"You're my best friend," he replied before staggering away. I appreciated the sentiment, but it didn't help me find Taker.  
  
Just then, I heard the sound of a motorbike behind me, and I turned to see Undertaker riding towards me. I waved to him, but he ignored me and just kept riding towards me. I remembered calling him a son of a bitch a few months back, and I guessed he remembered it as well. I turned and ran (well at least did a very fast waddle) down the corridor as he came after me. Unfortunately I tripped and I turned to see Taker's bike about to run over my head as my cowboy hat fell off...  
  
  
  
To be continued... 


End file.
